The Secret Heir
by Amber Krueger
Summary: Andi has been recruited as a bounty-hunter for hell; as she works on her first soul, Sock and Ben conspire behind Sam's back with Tony, who has been in contact with Mr. Oliver via cell phone.
1. Synopsis

After the Devil had destroyed the demon rebellion and saved Sam from becoming an ornament in the rubble, Sam had gone home and thought long and hard about what had previously happened. So, apparently, the Devil signed the lease to Sam, Sock and Ben's new apartment; it was going all according to Satan's plan when the trio met demons, Steve and Tony, their next-door neighbors. He couldn't believe it; how sneaky the Devil was. Well, of course, the Devil would be sneaky – it's in the job description. It wasn't until weeks later that Tony had come to Sam with the idea that he was the son of Satan, the antichrist. What the hell? That wasn't something Sam needed to know. He had already dealt with a great load of stress those past few weeks, and then having been told the Devil was his father? It was like a bad Star Wars spoof.

They'd all been fired from The Work Bench, aside from Andi who had been promoted to manager when Ted was found to be impotent for the job. When they got back into town, so much had changed. They'd been evicted from their Devil-provided apartment, fired, and Sam, dumped. They were lucky to have a roof to live under after all the shit they'd pulled. However, all that was fixed in no time. He and Andi, who had been demoted from manager, got back together; Andi as well as Sam, owned by the Devil after that risky game of quarters.

Everything was back to normal, disregarding a few small details: Satan was Sam's true father, Sam's earthly father was a zombie who still hadn't gotten out of hell and Andi had become a reaper, compliments ala Devil.


	2. Conspiracy

Sam sank lazily into the couch, a tired sigh relieving itself from his lungs and a hand running through his hair; his eyes slipped shut for that moment of silence he had, for once in his life a relaxing minute to himself without interruption of the supernatural nature. Ben and Sock weren't home, and Sam hadn't an idea where on earth they were.

Sam's right hand twitched and he winced as a sharp pain shot up his arm. He opened one eye to glance down at the bandaged and splinted hand that Steve had broken purposely by orders from the man upstairs. Sam wondered why it was so necessary. He knew if Steve had not pulled that out-of-the-blue stunt, he would've gotten his soul back and Andi wouldn't have lost hers. The reason Steve had given them wasn't good enough, as far as Sam Oliver was concerned. Thanks to Steve, he was doomed to doing the Devil's dirty work alongside his girlfriend until the day he dies, and the same went for Andi. At least the Devil cut Sam some slack, because of his hand; until Sam's hand healed, he was told by the dark lord of asses himself, that he would not come to him with any more vessels. Until Sam was healed, it was Andi's responsibility to capture the souls, and Sam didn't like that at all. Not one little bit.

Andi ogled the vessel box that sat on the table in front of her. She hadn't opened it yet, and it was her first, discounting that time she'd helped Sam with that one soul and the scythe vessel. Unlike Sam, however, Andi got to it. She swallowed her pride and unlatched the wooden lid, quickly opening it; hellish smoke seeped from the then opened vessel box to reveal a can of pepper spray.

Well, that's cliché. Andi thought, grabbing the black can and studying it closely. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be just your ordinary can of pepper spray, and that's what Andi had - an untrained eye for vessels handcrafted in the bowels of perdition by the iniquitous and the vile. Again, unlike Sam, she didn't get a six-hundred on her SATs.

She guessed how the vessel worked, just spray the accused in the face, right? But Andi hadn't the slightest clue of where to start. The Devil didn't bother to give her a jump-start; she didn't even get to see the Devil since Sam's game of quarters. Sam was right, he was a dick. Nevertheless, that didn't stop her. She figured she might as well accept her fate, for then anyway. Not only was she still in a battle for Sam's soul, but hers as well, and she'd be damned (literally) if she couldn't do something about it, and Andi wasn't going to stop until she found a way. In the meantime, it was up to her to figure out what she had to do, since she just woke up to find that vessel box sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

It was approximately three-twenty in the afternoon. Andi had slept in because of the long night her, Sam, Sock and Ben had before at The Brickhouse. Her head pulsed with an ongoing headache and her stomach flipped several times as she got to her feet from the couch. She placed a hand on her forehead and wobbled from side to side; the room seemed to spin and everything doubled when she opened her eyes. The one thing she regretted from drinking was the hangovers. There was no was in hell or on earth, or anywhere else for that matter, that she was going soul-hunting that day; and if the Devil thought otherwise, well he had another thing coming.

She dragged her feet from the living room into the kitchen. As she opened the fridge door, the phone rang, sounding louder than usual. If she ignored it, it'd just keep ringing, making her headache worse. Andi groaned, waving her hand about in front of her as she made her way back into the living room.

"Alright, alright!" She said, stumbling over her own two feet and falling over the back of the couch, landing perfectly on her ass. She slowly leaned over the rounded and cushiony arm of the sofa, where the phone rang on the end table.

"Hello?" Andi answered, adjusting the phone on her ear.

"Hey," Sam said.

A small smile found itself on Andi's lips and she leaned back into the couch.

"Hey," She replied, the fatigue evident in her voice.

Sam held the cordless between his ear and shoulder as he raided the fridge for something to eat, doing his best not to hit his hand on anything.

"How're you feeling? You downed way more than us last night." He quickly avoided the jar of pickles to his right and snatched a Nutrigrain bar.

Why the hell is there a Nutrigrain bar in the fridge? He thought, shaking his head from what he could and kicked the refrigerator door shut. Their conversation quickly went from hangover to reaping and Andi explained to Sam how she found a vessel box on her coffee table when she woke up not too long ago. Sam insisted on coming over to help her out. Having a broken hand couldn't really compare to a hangover, and plus, he had nothing better to do; the relaxing thing got old fast.

Meanwhile, as Sam made his way to Andi's place via chick-mobile Prius, Sock and Ben were having a secret meeting at Tony's.

"It's best Sam doesn't know about this, just yet." Tony said. He leaned over the coffee table in between Sock and Ben on the couch. The two glanced at each other from in front of their gay demon pal before quickly bringing their attention back to the cell phone on the table.

"I've got a plan, you guys, just keep in touch until I find a way out of here." Mister Oliver's voice said, coming from the cell phone, garbled and bad quality.

With that, the call dropped and Tony flipped his phone shut. They all traded glances. "Man, I can't believe it." Ben shook his head. Sock stroked his chin pensively and Tony frowned.

"Well, Sam will end up finding out sooner or later... but it can't be from us. I think it's best he finds out on his own... I doubt Andi even knows, and if she does, she does a hell of a good job hiding it." Tony's eyes glinted in the afternoon sunlight that beamed through the curtained window, his expression serious, his brow furrowed and forehead worried with wrinkles. He stood, followed by Ben and Sock. Tony patted them on the backs and forced a smile.

"Let's just keep this between us. I know I can trust you two." He said, nodding.

Ben nodded in response and Sock threw his arms around Tony in a - what he'd consider - man-hug. "Don't worry bro. You got our word, don't ask - don't tell." Sock confirmed; smirking at the unintentional pun he made.

Tony walked them out, by habit eyeing the premise before withdrawing from the protection of the fenced circle.


	3. An Old Boyfriend

Sam refrained from using his right hand, single-handedly steering with his left. As if it wasn't difficult enough shifting gears, but he had gotten used to it since when he had first broken his hand. He glanced at the rearview mirror, silently cursing Steve for doing that to him.

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" The Devil said, sitting in the passenger seat. Sam jumped at the Devil's sudden arrival.

"Andi's." He replied; keeping his responses short since he was still angry over his unfair loss, or Andi's, rather.

"Oh, I see. Helping the girlfriend with her new job. I thought I told you to stay home and rest? Y'know soul catching isn't good for that broken hand of yours." The Devil gestured a finger at Sam's inanimate hand, as if he were threatening to poke it. Sam glanced at his boss, hesitantly sliding his hand onto his lap, out of the Devil's effortless reach. Sam didn't say anything. He kept his eyes on the road, a stern look on his face. "Mm," the Devil turned to face the windshield, his expression neutral instead of his usual grin.

"Hey man, don't blame me. It's not my fault what's-her-face doesn't have as good of a head on her shoulders like she looks. Appearance isn't everything, you know." The Devil looked at Sam between sentences. "And now you've got proof!" He arched his eyebrows with a quick, big smile.

"How can I not blame you!" Sam shouted, almost smacking his hand on the emergency brake. "It is all your fault!" The anxiety heightened in his tone, the speedometer went to fifty in a forty-five zone.

The Devil's smile had yet to cease. "I think you have me confused with someone else, because I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't do this to you, Sammy. Your so-called loved ones did. Look who sold your soul and look who broke your hand. I've committed no crime, Sammy. I'm just doing my job."

Sam didn't know what to say back. As much as he didn't want to believe it, it sounded true to his ears. The Devil didn't do anything except his job, so how could he blame him? Using the Devil as a scapegoat was far too cliché, just like the majority of people on this planet. But admitting to the Devil his wrong was just something Sam couldn't bring himself to do. However Sam wasn't a very prideful person, he was still a man, and that alone was a big enough excuse to get away with being bullheaded.

"Don't worry, Sam. Everything is gonna be just fine, you'll see." The Devil's consoling words just then were so out of character for him.

Sam stopped at a red light and scrutinized the Devil's unreadable face. He didn't know whether to be surprised or not by his boss' assumed empathy.

"Tell me that when everything goes back to normal; when you give Andi and I our souls back. Otherwise, I don't need your pseudo comfort." Sam said, his eyes set back on the road ahead. He looked back and the Devil was gone. Sam exhaled and drove forth when the light turned green again.

It wasn't long before he reached Andi's place. He parked by the curb and got out, bumping the car door shut with his hip. Andi met him outside, walking down the lawn in her pajamas, one hand shielding the sunlight from her eyes. Sam met her halfway and greeted her with an awkward kiss.

"So the Devil didn't give you any information on the soul?" Sam asked. Andi shook her head slowly, frowning as they made their way up to the front door. Andi stepped in. "No, all I got was the vessel. He didn't say anything to you?" Andi said. "No - the Devil doesn't even want me here... he keeps going on about my hand."

When Sam went to enter Andi's house, he was flung across the lawn. He landed by the front tire of his car, nearly hitting his head on the way down. "Ugh! What the hell!" He shouted, struggling to sit up. Andi rushed outside. "What happened?" She said, running down the yard. "I - I don't know! Something just grabbed me and threw me." Sam explained as Andi helped him up. "It's got to be the Devil... I don't know what his problem is." Sam said. Andi held him by the hand as they walked back to the house. Sam walked up to the door and as he leaned forward to go in, something pushed him back with a force that sent him flying onto his ass again. "What the hell is going on!"

Sam angrily got back to his feet and marched up to Andi. "I can't get in." He sighed. "It's got to be the Devil, I guess he really doesn't want me over here."

"Well, that's not gonna stop us, right?" Andi said with a sudden burst of energy. "Let me throw on some clothes and we'll go figure this out together." She smiled and jogged back into the house, quickly returning in presentable attire with the vessel in hand. "I can't believe he gave you pepper spray." Sam gestured at the black can in Andi's grasp. "We've got to work with what we've got." Andi shrugged, shutting the door behind her and heading for Sam's car. Sam followed behind. "So how do you suggest we start on this ghost hunt?" Andi asked, getting in the car and fastening her seatbelt. "We have no jumpstart in this... so, I have no idea. Let's find Sock and Ben, then we can figure something out at The Brickhouse." Sam turned the key and the engine failed to start. "The hell? Sock just filled the tank yesterday..." Sam paused, his glance stolen by the gas meter; the tank was full. Andi frowned and scoffed, letting her head back on the headrest. Sam tried the engine two then three times more without any luck. "Damn it!" He slammed his hands on the steering wheel and then yelped in pain. "Oh! Sam are you ok?" Andi couldn't help but giggle. "Ah! Yeah... ugh. Ok, maybe we could walk." Sam settled down, the pain in his hand just a throbbing annoyance then.

"No, no. You know what, Sam? I can do this myself. If the Devil really doesn't want you to help me, maybe there's a reason... I don't know, it's probably better if I get a hang of this myself anyway." She half-smiled and gave Sam a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out.

Sam huffed, head falling back, his gaze set on the soft material of the car ceiling. "Fine, you win." He said, taking one quick look at Andi who watched him as he turned the key once more. The car started up perfect and as quietly as ever. Sam shrugged at Andi and left, wondering what the hell the Devil's problem was.

Andi went back inside and sighed. She really was stumped, hadn't the simplest clue of where she was going with this whole soul-reaping deal. The Devil could've at least given her a helping hand at her first job, and yet he wouldn't even allow Sam to help. Somebody sure has a stick up their ass, Andi thought.

She sat down on the couch and tossed the vessel onto the coffee table; it clunked when it hit the wood and rolled into the artificial flowered centerpiece. Her mom was out on a date, one of the few she had that month. She wasn't comfortable with her mother dating, but she figured that since her dad died, it was best for her mother's sake.

Ms. Prendergast had been out on her date since last night, as far as Andi knew. It had only become clear to her that her mother hadn't returned yet, and it was already nearing four in the afternoon. Before Andi could even contemplate where her mother could possibly be, the front door opened and her mom stepped in, laughing with a grinning, suit-clad man.

"Mom," Andi paused when she caught a glimpse of who her mother was with. "Andi, I'm so sorry I didn't call. I was just having such a great time with..." Her mom stopped when she saw that Andi was glaring at the man she was with, who she knew as the Devil. He smiled wide at her.

"Oh, God, where's my mind? Andi, this is Jerry. We've dated in the past, but it was before you were born, I think." Andi's mother said, laying a hand on the Devil's - or Jerry's - tie to straighten it.

"Hi, Jerry..." Andi stared. "Actually, I believe we've met before, haven't we. At The Work Bench, was it?" Jerry said. Andi didn't reply. "Well," Ms. Prendergast started, heels scuffing over the carpet as she made her way into the kitchen. "Jerry, would you like something to drink?"

Andi interrupted, "mom have you been up ever since last night?" She asked, overlooking the back of the couch to the kitchen.

"Jerry took me dancing after dinner and well, we lost track of time I guess." Her mom explained. "Coffee?" She said in regard to Jerry. "Black's fine, dear." The Devil said, sitting down across from Andi. His sinister grin never leaving his well-tanned face.


	4. Harold Daubner

Andi turned to face the Devil, sitting cross-legged on the couch. The smile he had on his face gave her chills, the hair on the nape of her neck standing erect - goosebumps prickling down her chest and up her legs. The thought of him and her mother dating... she couldn't bear to think it.

Ms. Prendergast came in with a plain coffee mug in one hand and a clear glass of soda in the other. The Devil reached forward as Andi's mother handed him his black coffee, nodding graciously. Her mom sat down next to Jerry and sipped from her soda, just realizing that her daughter was glaring her boyfriend heinously.

She broke the silence, "oh, uh, Andi did you want something? I'm sorry." Ms. Prendergast said, inching closer to the tan, well-dressed man next to her. "No, I'm fine, mom." Andi assured, looking away from the Devil for the first time since they'd arrived.

"Well," Ms. Prendergast set her glass down on a coaster and smoothed her hands down her lap.

The Devil appeared amused at the awkward silence. He sat back, one leg crossed over the other, hands clasped in his lap, still grinning wider than ever. "Andi, did you have fun last night?" Her mother inquired, glancing at her date cautiously. It was a tempered moment before Andi answered, as if she'd been thinking. "Oh, yeah. I guess." She made her disapproval evident to her mother, who tried to keep an appropriate conversation alive.

Andi sighed, suddenly getting to her feet and leaving the room; just a quick minute before her bedroom door slammed - well, not slammed but shut hard enough to be heard. Her mother exhaled sharply, eyeing Jerry. "I don't know what's gotten into her." She said. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing at all. I'll go talk to her." Jerry gave Ms. Prendergast a promising smile as he stood and headed for Andi's room. He hadn't gotten halfway there before appearing at the other side of Andi's door. Andi gasped, eyes bugging momentarily. When she saw who it was, an immediate anger washed over her like a heat wave and she locked her stare on him.

"Oh, I bet you're just about seeing red now, aren't you? Don't worry; she's just a back up for when I'm bored. I thought it might spice things up a bit, and from the way you're reacting I was right." The Devil said, his voice thick with mirth.

"You stay away from her." Andi's teeth ground as she spoke.

"Hey, hey. Chill, man. I've already had my way with her; I don't need her for anything else." The Devil raised his hands in company with his smile, which provided no comfort with what he'd just said.

"What?" Andi cocked her head to the side. "You son of a bitch, I swear."

The Devil laughed. "I've gone through this with Sam before. Really, Andi? You must forget who you're talking to." He said.

Andi didn't say anything; she was so flustered that her face had turned a noticeable red by then.

"You know, you might wanna get that checked out. Try anger management, good movie, by the way." The Devil commented with a chuckle.

"Alright, you know what, no. Let's just get straight to business. What's with this soul, and how the hell do you expect me to capture it without any information?" Andi folded her arms and glared at the Devil.

"Well, aren't you in a hurry? Far more eager than Sam ever was." The Devil slipped a hand into his suit-jacket and pulled out a collection of papers, dog-eared and stapled at the top left corner. "I gotta say, I felt bad for not helping you out, kiddo." He passed her the papers and palmed any wrinkles from the front of his jacket. Andi arched an eyebrow, looking down at the papers in hand. A black and white photograph of a scruffy looking man was clipped to the first page.

"Harold Daubner," the Devil wagged a finger in gesture to the man in the picture. "He was convicted for sexually harassing a minor back in the eighties..." He added as Andi thumbed through the pages. "But that's all he was convicted for. Mister Daubner was a rapist, had been since he was sixteen years old, but never got caught. No sir, this man right here had a system, and a damn good one at that." The Devil smirked and let out a quiet giggle.

"That's horrible." Andi said, skimming through a page. "Oh yeah. As if it wasn't bad enough for him, being put away for ten years of his life, he never got past the first year. When his cellmate got word of what he was in for..." The Devil drew a finger across his neck. "Well, before that he made Harold his bitch. Gotta love the justice system."

"So..."

"So! Now he's back for revenge. That's where, my dear Andi, you come in. You get to send that perverted bastard's ass straight back to hell! Isn't that cool?" The Devil said, motioning excitedly as if expecting an enthusiastic reaction from his newest reaper; a reaction he did not receive. Before Andi even considered saying something, her mother's voice boomed from outside her door, along with two light-handed knocks. "Is everything alright in there?" Ms. Prendergast said.

The Devil winked and pivoted to open the door. "Yeah! We worked everything out - she's just got a headache from last night is all." His eyes shifted in Andi's direction, the corner of his mouth quirking in a sneer. "Oh, alright." Andi's mother followed Jerry as he departed from her daughter's bedroom, giving Andi a firm look. Andi grabbed her purse and tagged behind her mom.

"Aw, so soon?" She heard her mother say to the Devil who looked as if he were about to leave. "I've got some business to take care of, but I'll give you a call." He said, leaning forward, allowing Ms. Prendergast to give him a peck on the cheek. "You never seem to stop with your business, Jerry." Ms. Prendergast recalled, half-smiling. The Devil inclined his head to Andi and with that left. Both mother and daughter stood in the doorway and watched the Devil as well as Jerry leave in a dark red, nineteen-seventy-six Corvette. The engine revved loudly and echoed through the neighborhood as he sped down the street.

As soon as he was gone, Andi snatched the vessel from the coffee table and stuffed it into her purse, withdrawing her phone in the same instance. She dialed Sock's number and hoped he'd answer.

Sock struggled to pull his phone from the tight captivity of his jeans pocket.

"Who is it?" Ben asked, glancing at Sock and then back at the road. Sock frowned. "Dude, dude... it's Andi." Sock said, a worried expression dawned upon his face. "Oh..." Ben bit his lip.

"Are you going to answer it?" Ben asked and Sock looked around nervously before raising a halting finger and flipping open his cell. "Yo this is the Sockmiester, how can I bone you?" Sock answered, his chest puffed out and a forced grin on his face.

"Hey, Sock... can you give me a ride?" Andi said.

Sock eyed Ben, "oh, yeah, yeah sure. Sure we can give you a ride, right Benji?" He slapped Ben on the arm with the back of his hand. Ben hesitated. "Right, Benjamin?" Sock jutted his chin out and Ben shrugged involuntarily. "Yeah, yeah we can give her a ride." He said, trying to sound cool but failing miserably.

Andi thanked them and waited, lucky that they were only a couple blocks from her house. She was sure that the Devil wouldn't care one way or another if Sock and Ben helped. Suggesting that Satan was being overly sensitive over his wounded-by-an-angel son, she compared that with men and their obsession with how big their dicks are; a pride issue.


	5. Forgiveness

"Do you think she knows?" Ben asked, keeping one eye on Sock and the other on the road. "I dunno, man." Sock shrugged and adjusted himself in the passenger seat. "The hell are you doing?" Ben shot a look at his friend and Sock jammed a hand down his pants. "Sock!" Ben shouted. "Calm down, I have a wedgie! My Joes are invading my man-area." Sock pushed his ass up and fixed his jeans. Ben watched awkwardly as Sock sat back down, wiggling himself into his previous position. "You're bad." Ben shook his head and turned back to face the road. "Oh, Ben, Ben, Ben! Watch out!" Sock cried and grabbed hold of the steering wheel. They swerved right and crashed into a recycle bin, knocking it over, plastic bottles and soda cans emptied from it and scattered about. The front half of the car was up on the curb, the right tire dug into the lawn of whoever's they had wrecked on.

There had been a series of shouts coming from the car. Ben's face met the steering wheel and an airless airbag failed to inflate on Sock's side of the car. Ben groaned and slowly sat up. "What the hell, Sock! You could've gotten us killed!" He said as soon as he had gathered up the composure to speak. "You would've hit him!" Sock said. "Hit who, Sock?" Ben glared. There was a sudden barking and scratching at Ben's door. "Spike!" Sock hurried out of the car and ran around to the driver's side. He picked up a small black dog with a white stripe down its forehead and a white muzzle. Ben's glare hadn't ceased and Sock sighed, ignoring his ethnic friend. Ben opened his door and got out. "Come on, we gotta clean this up." He advanced toward the spilt recycle bin and began collecting cans and bottles and other recyclables.

Sock set Spike down and the little dog skittered to the mess and picked up an empty water bottle with his teeth. Sock kicked everything into a pile and waved Ben back to the car lazily. Ben sighed and followed him. Spike jumped onto Sock's lap in the car when Ben sat down. He shifted into reverse, shaking his head in scolding to Sock. The car bounced when Ben pulled off the curb and they carried on to Andi's house.

When they arrived, Andi was standing outside and boy did she have a story to tell. Sock rolled down his window and waved at her, bearing a big open-mouthed smile. He reached behind his seat and opened the back door. Andi caught it when he pushed it open and she got inside. "Guys," she started - sliding onto the middle of the backseat. She leaned forward, in between the driver and passenger's seats. "You aren't going to freakin' believe this." She said, slapping her knees after placing her purse to her side on the seat.

"What?" Ben glanced back at Andi, then back to the road and up to the rearview mirror. "My mom is dating the Devil." Andi folded her arms and leaned back.

Sock did a double take. "Wait, wait, wait. Ms. P and el Diablo?"

Andi nodded.

"No way! Are you sure?" Ben said, giving Andi shocked look from the rearview mirror. "I'm pretty sure." Andi confirmed and Ben's jaw fell. Andi drew back when she saw Spike peer around the passenger seat and yelp at her. "Uh," she paused and gave Sock a look.

Sock pet Spike on the head. "Wait a minute... isn't that one of the dogs that chased me and Sam at The Bench?" Andi recalled and Sock shrugged, the image of him running through the aisles of The Work Bench with a leaf-blower flashed in his mind for a split second. He let out a quiet laugh. "Anyway," Andi tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and went through her purse. "Damn." She said. "What?" Ben took a quick look over his shoulder and Andi shook her head, "nothing - I just forgot to bring the file the Devil gave me."

"Oh." Ben frowned. He and Sock exchanged looks.

"It's ok; I think I know where we need to go. The Devil told me that the soul was back for revenge... and who else would he want revenge with other than the person who killed him?" Andi clarified.

Sock and Ben hadn't an idea of who the soul was, and what he did, so they looked as if they were about to flunk a big test. "Ugh. Ok, his name's Harold Daubner... he was a rapist, got caught and locked up. His cellmate apparently found out what he did and killed him, as far as I know, from what the Devil told me, anyway. So... my guess is, he's heading for the county jail." Andi said in one big breath.

"But what if the guy who killed him... got out?" Ben proposed. "Yeah and how do we even know who killed him, anyway? Did the Devil give you a name?" Sock said.

"Ugh, you're right!" Andi smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Do you think it'd be in the file?" Ben questioned.

"I don't know... but there's no use going back now. Let's see what we can find out."

As the reaping trio drove down the road, past the DMV on Union Street, Tony paced anxiously around the coffee table in the living room of his circle-protected cabin in the woods. His eyes every other second darting to the coffee table where his cell phone still sat smack dab in the middle of. Little Stevie started to cry and Tony was torn between his wailing daughter and the phone, until he remembered that it was portable and he could easily slip it into his pocket as well as cater to Stevie's toddler needs. Somebody was clearly a little too stressed out for their own good.

Tony sighed and grabbed his phone before rushing into the other room where Stevie was. His mouth went agape when he saw angel Steve cradling his little girl. Tony stammered, eyes glistening as they swelled with tears. "Steve," he choked out.

"You've really been taking good care of her, Tony." Steve said, smiling down at the child in his arms. "She's growing up so fast."

"Steve, your wings." Tony gestured to the big white wings on Steve's back. "Oh, yeah, it took a hand-breaking and some effort but I got them." Steve smiled, setting little Stevie back down in her crib. He tucked her in and she settled down.

"What are you... I mean..." Tony stopped; he couldn't get his words out the way he wanted.

Steve stepped up to Tony and placed his hands firmly on Tony's shoulders. He made eye contact and held it for as long as he could. "I have a message for you." Steve said. A tear rolled down Tony's cheek and he choked trying to steady his breathing. Steve ran the back of his hand along Tony's face, and gently cupped the back of his head. He wiped the tear from his cheek and tilted his head to the side, slightly.

"He's forgiven you, Tony." Steve smiled. Tony's jaw dropped and Steve pressed his forehead against Tony's. "The amount of good you've been doing, like taking care of Stevie, it's all coming back to you now." They held eye contact for what seemed like forever. Tears continued to dribble from Tony's eyes. "Oh, Steve, I miss you so much." Tony said, sniffling. "I know, I know you do." Steve nodded, pulling away. "Now," He started. "You follow John Oliver's plan. He has something good going, Tony. We always knew that Sam wasn't the son of Satan."


	6. A Favor

Sam was not only pissed that the Devil disallowed him to help his own girlfriend and fellow reaper in capturing her first soul, he was edging toward livid. He knew that it had nothing to do with his broken hand. The Devil couldn't care less about Sam's physical or emotional health, unless it somehow affected him. The Devil was always known for his selfishness and vanity. Sam wasn't stupid, ignorant maybe, but not stupid. Sam let out a harsh breath as he walked into the house. He carelessly tossed his keys onto the counter as he entered the kitchen, dragging himself to the refrigerator where he'd grab a cold beer and proceed for the couch; his place of rest, aside from his bed.

"Something's up." Sam said to himself, struggling to open his beer. He'd talk to the Devil if he knew he'd get a solid answer from him. A solid, _truthful _answer, rather. The idea of being unable to be around Andi disturbed him, and he knew he couldn't do a thing about it, except whine and complain.

Just as he succeeded in opening his beer, the cap flinging into the air, Sam nearly spilled it when - speak o' - the Devil appeared, sitting casually on the arm of the couch. "How's the hand, champ?" He said; and Sam rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" Sam sighed.

"Oh, I'm just checking up on my boy!" The Devil said a little too cheerfully, like the kind of cheerful when he wanted something, and Sam recognized it, hence his previous question.

"Yeah, well, I'm fine. I can't see my girlfriend, my friends are God-knows-where, but I'm just fine. Thanks for asking."

The Devil got to his feet and pulled at the single fastened button of his suit-jacket. "Good. Now, I'm not one to ask for favors, so this may seem out of character for me; except I'm not really asking, because you'll do it anyway."

Sam leaned back and glowered at the Devil. "What?" He said dryly.

"Oh, come on Sammy, you gotta act a little more enthusiastic." The Devil frowned, motioning to Sam's lazy posture and sloppy attitude.

"Ok, I'll do a round of cartwheels. Is that enthusiastic enough for you?"

"Hey, hey. What's with the sarcasm, buddy? Oh... I get it. You're mad because of I won't let you help the girl." The Devil nodded as he spoke, wiggling a finger at the reaper.

"I don't understand, it's not fair. I know you don't care about my hand, stop pretending like you do. If you did, you wouldn't have thrown me around like that!" Sam complained; the beer he held still full and sweating in his hand.

"You know what? You're right. Here, let me make it up to you. Why don't you and I go out... oh, wait, never mind, I have a date tonight." A sly grin unzipped across the Devil's lips.

"Anyway, back to business."

"I feel sorry for the girl that has to put up with you." Sam said.

"Come now, Sam. Be nice, you'll hurt my feelings."

"Whatever. Now what do you want? I can't even finish a damn beer without you over my shoulder."

"Alright, alright. I need you to pick up a car for me tonight and drop it off at Andi's place."

"What? No way. You're probably just setting me up for disaster." Sam set the beer down on the coffee table. The Devil smiled, stepping closer to Sam. "It's not like you have a choice, now is it?" He laughed and Sam groaned. The Devil dropped a set of keys in Sam's lap and raised his eyebrows.

"A red nineteen-sixty-seven Ford Mustang Shelby - mint condition. Beautiful car. You'll be picking her up at the impound lot, tomorrow night at seven o' clock sharp. Are we clear?" The Devil leaned in, his lips curling over his teeth in a malicious grin. Sam picked up the keys from his lap and eyed the Devil hopelessly. He really didn't have a choice, and he was lucky that the Devil hadn't thrown any threats his way.

"Yeah," Sam said. "We're clear."

The Devil quickly patted Sam on the knee before standing up straight and looking around.

"Why at Andi's, anyway?" Sam asked. The Devil's smile faded and he looked down at Sam. "No questions, Sam. Just do it."

"I think I'm obligated to know why you want me to drop off a car at my girlfriend's house!" Sam spat. Before he could take a second glance, the Devil had disappeared.

What a dick, Sam thought. He threw the keys onto the coffee table and snatched his beer in the process. He hadn't an idea where the remote to the TV was, and he was too comfortable to bother looking for it. He sat back and let out a heavy sigh before taking a long overdue gulp of his then lukewarm beer. He grimaced at the bitter, heated flavor, yet too lazy to get up and get another.

The Devil always seemed to make it a point to ruin things for Sam; were it not his opportunity to sit and relax with a cold beer, it'd most likely be something else. He just couldn't escape the Devil's nasty grip.

Ben stopped in front of the municipal center. "Are you sure?" He asked and Andi rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ben. Just wait here, I'll be out in a minute." Andi said, getting out of the car. Sock looked at Ben and grinned as Andi trotted up the steps and entered the building. "No, Sock. Sock!" Ben shouted as Sock got out and ran after Andi. Ben shook his head and shifted the car into park.

Andi made her way down a hall and stopped in front of a door. She looked into the window and smiled when she saw Josie sitting at her desk, in front of a computer; her eyes seemingly glued to the screen. Andi knocked and Josie swiveled in her office chair. When she saw Andi, a big smile found itself on her lips. She jumped to her feet and ran for the door.

"Andi!" Josie said, whipping open the door and holding out her arms. They hugged for a minute and Andi pulled away. "So how was your trip?" She asked.

Josie rolled her eyes. "I fell and thought I wouldn't be back until next fall. Are you kidding me? Girl, that is the last time I volunteer to sit and listen to some old guy with a tacky taste in suits talk about law history."

Andi laughed, "sounds like someone I know." She smirked on an afterthought. "But anyway, I need a favor."

"Oh?" Josie sat down and crossed one leg over the other, her eyes shifting to the computer screen.

"Yeah, do you think you can pull up a dead criminal's records?"

"Depends on what dead criminal we're talking about, here." Josie turned back to the computer, ready to type in a name.

"Harold Daubner?" Andi said.

"Oh, that guy. Yeah, he wasn't that popular though - killed by his cellmate in eighty-six. What's your sudden interest?"

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Is that so?" Josie laughed, typing in the name. "What do you want to know?"

"First off, who killed him."

"What a coincidence," Josie leaned in toward the computer screen. "Joshua Crowns. He was just released today."


	7. Blade

Sock crept outside Josie's office door. He peeked inside, watching as Andi leaned over Josie's shoulder, both of their eyes fixated on the computer screen. He grinned and swiftly slipped through the doorway. When he shut the door, Andi and Josie simultaneously turned to face him. Andi frowned. "Sock, I thought I told you to stay in the car." She said and folded her arms. Josie leaned back and arched a sarcastic eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." She glanced at him from head to toe. Sock scoffed and stammered, trying to come up with a quick, witty comeback. "Yeah, well, look what the cat coughed up." Sock sneered and snapped his fingers tauntingly, "oh yeah, I went there."

Josie rolled her eyes and pivoted to face the computer. "I knew you couldn't keep it in your pants." She said, scrolling down the page.

"Well what did you expect, Josie? Did you expect me to wait around for you until you unexpectedly came back? No, no, I can't do that." Sock huffed.

Josie looked at him, "she was that hot, huh?"

Sock nodded. "Grumpy couldn't help himself." He sighed.

"Yeah, well Grumpy ain't gettin' any from me."

"Alright, you guys, focus, please? Just print out Crowns' file." Andi said, her voice rushed and impatient.

"Really, what do you need this for anyway?" Josie asked, her glance pinballing between Andi and the computer screen.

Andi looked at Sock, who shrugged and took a quick look out the door before shutting it. She sighed heavily, looking down at Josie.

"What? What is it?" Josie said.

"Ok, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Josie gave them a look. "Uhuh."

Andi let out another sigh, frustrated. "Well... it's..."

"She's catches escaped souls from hell for the Devil." Sock interrupted.

"Sock!" Andi yelled and Josie rolled her eyes, turning back to the computer. "You guys are insane."

"No, Josie... it's true. I need the information because Harold Daubner is back from the dead and he's going to kill Joshua Crowns if I don't stop him and send him back to hell where he belongs." Andi said. Josie glared at her. "Seriously, Andi cut the crap. I know you're more mature than Mister Wysocki over there."

Sock rolled his eyes and Josie printed out the file. She went to hand it to Andi. "I understand. You don't wanna tell me. That's fine."

She quickly pulled her hand away when Andi reached for the papers. "But... I'm not giving these to you tell me." Josie smirked and Andi sighed. "I am, Josie. Just, give me the file. I'll prove it to you." Andi held out her hand impatiently.

Josie scoffed. "Fine." She gave Andi the file and eyed Sock suspiciously. "Alright, I'm busy. You guys better go before my boss finds you in here with that file."

Andi flashed Josie a smile and then darted out the door with Sock. Before Sock had left, he winked at Josie and quickly rubbed his nipples through his T-shirt. Josie shooed him away and shut the door behind him. "Ass." She murmured as she went to sit back down.

Sock beat Andi out the municipal center doors. As Andi stepped outside, she suddenly realized she wasn't standing outside the municipal center. It wasn't day, either. She studied her dark, foggy surroundings - not a clue of where she was, either than in the presence of Satan himself when she saw the man in a suit and blue tie standing aside her. His expression wasn't very pleasant, from what she could see. The Devil's eyes bored into her very soul, the frown he bared gave her an uncomfortable chill.

Oh great, what now? Andi thought as he laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. She looked up at him as if to go "what the fuck?" at the sudden movement.

"What the fuck is right, Andi." He said, his voice stern and serious. "What?" Andi couldn't think of what else to say that wouldn't get him any angrier.

"You told Josie, Andi. That was a very big mistake on your part, and you should've known better." The Devil stared down at her as if she were a dog he was scolding for pissing on the rug.

"Yeah well, she doesn't believe me anyway." Andi folded her arms.

"You're lucky." The Devil shook his finger. "You better keep it that way, too."

"I don't see the big deal! Sock and Ben know and they're more eligible to tell!" Andi said, waving the file around frantically as she spoke.

"Andi. Look who she's involved with. Do you really want to take the chance of her thinking you're mentally ill and having you put away? Along with Sock and Ben?"

Andi lowered her head in thought. Her brow furrowed and she raised her head and shook it.

"Good. Keep that in mind... because you don't want me handling this Andi."

With that said, Andi found herself standing in front of the municipal center. She shuddered, getting used to the afternoon sun before trotting down the steps.

"What took you so long?" Sock asked when Andi got in the car. She shrugged and they drove off.

Andi leaned back, going through Jason Crowns' file. Two counts of attempted murder and then the killing of Harold Daubner. Grand theft auto? This guy, Andi thought, is nothing but your everyday piece of jailbird scum. She didn't blame Harold for wanting revenge. The way that looked, in his mug shot however wasn't too appealing. Bald with an auburn goatee and tattoos coming up from between his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck and onto the crown of his head. His street alias was Blade - despite his lack of afro and vampire fangs. The idea crossed her mind, why let him live, he was a killer and bound to repeat what got him put away in the first place. Then again, it was in fact wrong, and that's when Andi shook her head and continued to read.


End file.
